High noon in the sprawl, & for once, the smog’s thin enough to see the neon flickering even in the daylight.

The meet at Dante’s went down smoother than a hot deck through a public grid. Kestrel looked like he’d swallowed a thermal detonator when he saw the new paint job on my Cyber-6, but the drek head didn't argue the price. He knew by the look in my optics that I wasn't there to bargain, I was there to collect a debt for the dead. The cred transfer hit my certified stick with a chime that sounded like a choir of angels in a data-haven.

I didn't head back to the bolt hole. I spent the morning at a private data shrine in the Renraku sector. It cost a mountain of nuyen, but Mouse is officially ghosted into the deep resonance archives now. I commissioned the Neo Tokyo loop, high-fidelity, infinite petals, & a sunrise that actually feels warm. I sat there for an hour, jacking into the public portal just to watch the digital wind catch her hair one last time. It’s not her, but it’s a place where the corps can’t touch her, &  the flatline doesn't exist.

My ASIST jitter is down to 5%. The world’s stopped pixelating at the edges. I’m feeling the itch to find a new job, something that hits the Megas where it hurts. I’m not just a ghost in the machine anymore. I’m the fraggin’ glitch they can’t patch out.

Kestrel mentioned a high stakes run against an Evo research facility out in the Redmond wastes. Said they’re playing with some experimental bio-tech that would make a street-doc’s eyes pop.

Maybe it’s time to see if I can’t trade some of this heavy karma for a little bit of justice. Mouse always did say I was too stubborn to stay in the shadows for long.